Bresson's second feature film, the plot is as simple as this: a woman takes revenge to her ex-lover by coaxing him into marry a young girl with an ill reputation, but the movie emanates a classical elegance through a meager four-player game. A young socialite Hélene (Casarès), sensing that the romance between her and her lover Jean (Bernard) has plateaued out, weasels her way into the latter's blithe confession by feigning that she wants to take a step back from their liaison, a cunning move to elicit the truth without staging a scene, in fact, she completely gains Jean's trust and admiration by her ostensible munificence and sensibility, little does he know, the tidings is a hammer blow to her. The best cure to overcome a broken heart is to retaliate, so Hélene plumps for a limber and comely cabaret dancer Agnès (Labourdette) as her bait to inveigle Jean into the trap, while keeping both oblivious of her true motive and the nexus is to keep a lid on Agnès' demimonde background from Jean until the wedding day. The whole plot is trenchantly actualized by a concatenation of conversations between various parties, playing up verbal interaction as an engaging fencing contest. Bresson lays bare its psychological signification through his able players (his last film cast by professionals). An inscrutable Maria Casarès oozes a stunning sophistication well beyond her age, every line she delivers can be savored with connotations ranging from manipulation to circumspectly veiled threats (dialogue is supervised by none other than Jean Cocteau), she revels in subtle moderations of her countenance and never lets up into theatricality. Elina Labourdette's Agnès, by comparison, guilelessly wears her hearts on her sleeve and makes heavy weather of her resistance from Jean which belies her abject capitulation in the first place, there is no reason for a young girl balks at a suave suitor like Jean if not for her ignoble past, and Paul Bernard gaily epitomizes a man's naiveté and predictability despite the fact that it is after all, him who has the say-so in the fallout, not these two polarized lollapaloozas from the opposite sex, or Lucienne Bogaert's Madame D., Agnès' careworn mother. A microcosm of our patriarchal hierarchy is under Bresson's sober scrutiny here. The ending is tinged with romanticism (through the illumining light on Agnès' impeccable visage), resuscitated by love over prejudice, the pair might indeed obtain true happiness after the event, the film sends a liberal-minded message and bears testimony of Bresson's aptitude of grappling with something ablaze with connivance, melancholy and lachrymosity, a rather disparate frontage, but not entirely less crafted, in juxtaposition with his more distinguished and groundbreaking masterworks.

There is much to enjoy in this simple tale of the wrath of a woman scorned, but 'timeless', 'masterpiece' or 'spellbinding', I rather think not. It is beautifully shot with memorable performances and an effective if barely believable dialogue. Early on the power and determination evidenced by a mere look from Maria Casares does give one hope that this might have the power of a vintage Bunuel. Unfortunately, for me, Bresson is far more interested in humiliation and misogyny than real passion and convincing evil. I know allowances have to be made for the passing time and changes morals but surely even within the movie as it stands little really adds up. Something of infatuation is illustrated but where is the wonderful portrayal of deep love that some strange folk detect?

I love French films, so the reason I did not love this film is not because I have anything against them. I also have really loved the films of Jean Cocteau, though his dialog here seems more like something from one of his fantasy films (like BEAUTY AND THE BEAST or ORPHEUS). The reason why I felt so unimpressed by this particular film was because I found the story and the dialog so thoroughly impossible to believe. None of the characters seemed like real people--just characters from a very, very old fashioned novel.Hélène and Jean have been dating for two years. However, neither feels much passion for the other. When Hélène tells Jean, she is angered to find that he, too, feels the same. Why this makes her angry is anyone's guess--I suppose that she had to be the one who was bored and his also being bored was a betrayal (at least in the bizarro world where they both live). So, instead of just accepting this minor inconvenience, Hélène spends the rest of the movie concocting a convoluted plan to break Jean's heart. To me, the motivation, money and payoff just made no sense at all--it isn't like Jean raped her or ran over her dog! He, like Hélène, just realized that their relationship had run its course.In this convoluted logic, Hélène arranges for a cabaret dancer, Agnès, and her mother to move into an apartment together. Hélène then deliberately introduces Jean to Agnès--somehow magically knowing that he'd fall head over heels for her and show the romantic ardor of some 19th century tragic hero (not a real man). Well, Agnès hates men and so Jean is crushed--but continues to stalk her even though they'd only briefly met once. Does this make sense? Nope. But by the end, the machinations of Hélène result in an ending where Agnès is about to die (why, I have no idea) and is only rescued by Jean's love.As you can probably tell from my summary, none of this sounds very realistic and how Hélène KNEW Jean would fall for Agnès so completely makes little sense. Nor does the dialog which sounds like it comes from a very, very bad romance novel written about 1920. Despite nice cinematography, a hopelessly unbelievable story that's only good as a time-passer.

Robert Bresson's 1945 adaptation of Denis Diderot's novel Jacque Le Fataliste leaves a few gaps for modern film buffs to jump over in order to appreciate this war-time love story. The secondary character of Agnes is supposed to be a prostitute with a vague connection to the main character, Helene, but other than an amazingly athletic dance in an up-scale cabaret, she shows no inclinations toward the lascivious or even the exotic. When she leaves the club after the fore-mentioned dance, she leaves alone, disdaining men in general and the many flowers they leave her in token of their desire,affection, whatever. Further muddling Agnes' character is her virginal demeanor after leaving the profession and taking Helene's charity. Perhaps this is done in order to seem worthy of help or it may simply be a lack of continuity in the development of Agnes' character. Agnes'mother seems also to bring a unique portrayal to her role as the mother of a prostitute. But my limited experience really doesn't qualify me to assess accurately such a role. Perhaps my inundation with American films leaves me with expectations of seedy stereotypes to fulfill my need for character identity. In any case, both Agnes and her mother seem obscurely rendered. On the other hand, Helene, played by Maria Casares, is portrayed with a well-nuanced undercurrent of revenge and manipulation, even a bit over-the-top in places, but entertainingly so. Her motivations are never far from the surface as she manipulates Jacque/Jean in order to get revenge for his having lost his passion for her, though apparently not his grudging admiration of her. They remain good friends and generally imply a relationship far more sophisticated than modern Americans might understand, given the change that's occurred in their emotional situation. The role of Jacque/Jean is very adequately portrayed by Paul Bernard as a love-sick boob of a Parisian businessman. He is absolutely hilarious in a scene where he leaves his marriage to Agnes in a fit of pique, having finally been told, both by Agnes and Helene, the true character of his beloved, and bangs his large coupe into another car, flails pathetically with the steering wheel while trying to get out of the car park, and finally roars off in a cloud of consternation while Helene smirks sardonically. My dedication to this plot is compromised because none of Agnes' seedy past has been portrayed on screen; thus, I have no emotional connection to her character. And this brings me back to my main problem with this film. Agnes and her mother seem totally misrepresented or else I simply expect too much scandal in a film about a prostitute- probably more my problem than theirs. Another odd point- The film shows a remarkably well functioning city which we have been led to believe was suffering under the oppressive occupation of the Wehrmacht. But I suppose as in all wars, it is only the lower classes who suffer the depredations of military conflict. I think I'll have a look at the novel and see if the film becomes in comparison more interesting. Adding further challenge to an appreciation of this film, the b&w exposure quality, though never bad, is uneven toward the end.The film was not un-enjoyable but I was usually shaking my head in disbelief whenever Agnes was represented as a virginal prostitute. I guess I expected more sophistication from a french film maker.